The Lost Hymn
by GentlemanBones
Summary: Inspired by The Cat Piano. Castle Town is one ruled by music, with clubs and lounges and open mic bars dotting the strip. When the city's most popular singer, Zelda, escapes from an attempted kidnapping but still manages to vanish into thin air, her number one fan - a harmonica player living off the street - takes it upon himself to find out where she went and catch her kidnapper.


Sirens blared outside, slowly growing silent as they disappeared into the distance of a dark night. Normally they couldn't penetrate the brick and mortar of the lounges and bars and music clubs that dotted the city's hub, but this time they'd been given purchase by the bar's entrance being hastily thrown open; a middle-aged man in a long blue trenchcoat stomped his way to a table in the back of the bar, eyes darting to and fro nervously. He was conspicuous to the point where the other patrons were forced to assume he was doing it on purpose, and kept to their own business.

And besides, everyone knew Linebeck. He always looked like that, even when he wasn't in trouble. As rare as it was.

He sat and sneered at nobody in particular, deciding not to make a lot of eye contact with the person he was actually sitting next to. A thick white envelope was extracted from the inside of his coat, beaten and muddy and just a little damp, and landed heavily upon the table. "This is all I've got for you." He whispered hoarsely, voice so raspy one would think he ate gravel whole. "Didn't get the chance to go through it. The guards are harder to trick when they're actually looking for burglars."

Bare fingers on a gloved hand reached out for the envelope, but Linebeck's hand was quicker. The paper skidded away, Linebeck threatening to place it back into his coat. "Ah ah! We had a deal. You still haven't paid me."

Blue eyes rolled and the same bare fingers retrieved a piece of receipt paper from inside a thin cotton shirt. Signed by Linebeck himself; the info retrieval had already been paid for. Linebeck relented, smirking, and returned the envelope to the table. "Eheh. You're getting better at this, Link."

It was the other man's turn to grin, one of satisfaction. The envelope was emptied, photos and notorized reports spilled onto the table. Link picked a few up, pouring over them carefully. As he read on, his brow creased and lips curved into a scowl. Linebeck decided to narrate, not very much liking how quiet his new business associate always was. Despite that, he wasn't hard to read.

"Lulu, from that zora band, the Indigo-Go's. Second successful kidnapping so far. I never much cared for zora music, sounds too much like drowning." Linebeck shifted some papers around, pulling up an incident report from one of the witnesses at Zora Hall. It was covered in white-out. He didn't like that. "This came right after Din from the Traveling Troupe mysteriously vanished. And neither of the incidents had any clues or blatant connection to Zelda's disappearance."

Link laid the photo flat and pointed a sharp gaze straight at Linebeck. He already knew all this, why was Linebeck repeating himself? Linebeck put his hands up defensively and decided to quiet down. "Geez. Fans are a pushy bunch. I didn't insult her or anything, I just said I have no idea where she IS."

Link rolled his eyes again and turned his attention back to the stage in front of them. The Milk Bar was different from the oher establishments that had been raided; Zora Hall and The Royal Palace were both high-end establishments. The camp the Traveling Troupe had been carrying around was on the far end of that spectrum. Milk Bar landed somewhere in the middle, an actual building with rules, but mostly populated with working class citizens of Castle Town and the outlying farm lands.

Tonight, there was a live band, whose vocalist was a lovely young woman. That made her a target. The set was actually coming to a close for the evening; all of the instruments were being put away, save for one man and an accoustic guitar. The woman, Cremia, began harmonizing a soft tune. The whole bar perked up, quiet, before the words started.

Linebeck leaned in close to Link, so he could be heard over the ruckus. "Just what's your investment in all this, really...? You're just a street musician, right? Not a detective. This isn't your job." The kid was a weird one. He had this spirit that just oozed off of him, the kind of regal charisma that you usually saw in war heroes. The kind of charisma that usually repelled him. Trustworthy people were harder to predict. But the kid was somehow more broke than Linebeck himself, playing harmonica on the street for rupees.

He was just some fan of some singer, and seemed to take personal offense at her attempted kidnapping by a single bizarre man and her subsequent disappearance into thin air. Everyone at the scene said she got away; Link himself had seen it, and tried to follow her. But there was no evidence left, no trace of any kind that she'd even fled the lounge.

And the town's most popular voice had gone silent, leaving her biggest fan feeling deaf.

Link came back to reality as the tavern's song came to a close, actually listening to it now. Almost every voice in the bar rang out in unison, creating the kind of harmony and spirit that was unique to these well-worn walls.

Through the rain Through the snow With a pint of beer

Year after year We'll be here

With the pain Through the fear With a glass for each tear

The world may soon end We'll still be here

It was a very gloomy sort of optimism, hidden behind booming voices and excited volume. The song ended and the crowd cheered and clapped for themselves and for the band and for the bartender and for everybody in earshot. Cremia smiled and held the microphone one last time.

"We really appreciate everyone coming out, especially with how dangerous it is right now. But we'll keep working hard, as long as you keep coming back!" She was a brave girl. If Link allowed her to be taken away like the others...he didn't think he'd be able to forgive himself.

Link blinked, and Cremia's body was stone. His body responded without input from his brain, knees knocking their table over as he jumped to his feet. Link tugged a forest green leather jacket from the back of his chair and retrieved a cheap pistol from the inner pocket, holding it tight but having nothing to aim at.

A cloaked man slowly approached the petrified singer, chuckling darkly under his breath as the bar patrons scrambled and fled for corners of the room. Magic was far from rare, but it was also far from harmless. That made Link the only man still trying to target the mage.

The cloaked man leaned against the statue, pursing his lips bemusedly and clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Tsk tsk tsk. Aiming at me with a peashooter? You've got more heart than head, kid." A small glowing orb fired from his hand towards Link, the man in green too dense to try and move.

"WAAAUGH!" In a fit of bravery, Linebeck had charged forward. He wasn't stupid, however, charging forward while hodling their table at the stem. The ball hit the table and turned it to stone, making it too heavy for Linebeck to still try and lift. "Come on, Link! Be a moron on your own dime! You're my only customer right now and I'm not losing you!" Linebeck tugged hard on the coat of Link's jacket, but only got the musician to jerk awkwardly on his feet. He didn't move.

The cloaked man grinned wider and opened his robes up in a flourish with one arm, revealing a finely tailored purple vest over a white shirt. "Oh, NOW I see. Heheh. You're going to be a pest. Let's get the formalities out of the way, then. I'm Vaati, with-"

The muzzle of Link's gun flashed and a bullet careen off Vaati's forehead. The mage groaned and clutched his palm at his head, wincing in pain. "Gah! You're lucky I'm on a tight schedule, or I'd take my time tearing you apart! You'd better hope my schedule doesn't free up!" Vaati vanished, taking the statue of Cremia with him, leaving the bar a catastrophe of flipped tables and broken glasses.

Link lowered and holstered his gun, still scowling. His head dropped, and he knelt down, not particularly happy with himself. Linebeck lifted him by the collar, and tried leading him for the door again. "Don't get all soppy on me yet, kid. We've got a lead. It's gonna cost you two hundred more rupees, though. Got a ride out of here? I ain't walking to our desintation."

Link stared into the back of Linebeck's head while they walked out. He was going to be in a fair amount of debt once this was over. But it would be worth it. They walked together through the modest parking lot, and stopped in front of a lovingly cared for piece of junk motorcycle. "An Epona? These are old as...you can't be serious. There's only one seat!"

Link sat down on it and revved the engine, then gave Linebeck an eyebrow. Linebeck grumbled and slumped to the bike. They tore out into the night with the older man forced to hold on to Link's waist. 


End file.
